


Illegal Substances

by PlayfulMay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Stoned, fudge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5919025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayfulMay/pseuds/PlayfulMay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne Fisher and her knack for becoming involved with illegal substances. And charming Inspectors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phryne Fisher on Fudge

Jack Robinson was fighting a grin with such difficulty, the corners of his mouth were beginning to turn up despite his inner protests. He should probably have tried harder to suppress his amusement, but that goofy look on Phryne Fisher's face was his very undoing.

Phryne was laid out on her parlour couch with arms stretched out above her head, purring like a cat. In any other case, Jack might have found it enticing enough to divert his gaze, but the particular hilarity of their conversation kept him quite focused on the giggling lady detective. Her hair splashed over her face with a quick jerk of her head, and her smile grew impossibly wider.

"Oh Jack ... you really ought to feel cushions more ... These fuzzy cushions ..."

Then Jack did grin, efforts-be-damned. "Uh huh ... fuzzy."

"There's just so much to FEEL ..." she laughed, turning in against the couch, burying her face in two of the cushions that were so often quaintly placed in at the corners as if they were pinned permanently in place. Now she was rolling against them, displacing them. "But you're as tall as the sky, Jack ... aren't you?"

Mr. Butler appeared somehow with perfect timing in the doorway to the parlour, keeping a seemingly oblivious smile to his expression as he addressed the unmistakably drug-induced Miss Fisher.

"Dr. MacMillan will be here shortly, Miss," he informed as promptly as he could, sensing so much with one quick glance over the room.

"She's missing such a party already, Mr. B," Phryne beamed, looking over to the doorway in direction of a respectful member of her household: "As are you."

"Perhaps next time," Mr. Butler simply smiled at her wonderfully childish glee. And content that Jack was neither put off nor overly put ON, Mr. Butler courteously took his exit.

Jack had - since stepping into her house to inquire about a case - taken it upon himself to watch over the strangely compromised woman he had come to see as his partner. Phryne had come to the door with a giggling squeal, practically leaping onto him as she flung her front door open. Jack had been breathlessly confused with her heavy breath on his neck, not knowing rather he should return her flippant embrace or insist she remove herself. It had been Dorothy's voice from upstairs that had pulled Phryne off of him, explaining that Phryne had stolen a small tin of a friend's fudge and unknowingly ingested a drug of some kind. Jack had lifted a brow as if to say she hadn't needed to explain she was under an effect of some kind. After all, Phryne's clingy behaviour was hardly typical.

Since the fiasco at the front door, Dorothy had gone out to pick up Dr. MacMillan, and Jack had taken his place in the parlour, watching Phryne pounce and bounce all over her sofa.

Phryne was at the very least enjoying the magical dose, frolicking to her heart's content.

Jack tried desperately to remain the very picture of professionalism with his hands clasped behind his back. Hat placed neatly on the coffee table. He stood with his jacket perfectly in place as he shook his head at her shenanigans: "Why is it that every time I turn my head, you're getting yourself into trouble, Miss Fisher?"

At that, Phryne only purred again. It came through a more seductive sound than before. It was a purr that spoke of untold troubles she enjoyed putting upon herself in his absence. Untold touches ... Perhaps troubles in the form of some twisted pleasure of other ... Jack snapped his eyes shut at the very thought, and then turned to find a seat in one of the chairs opposite the couch. What on earth had come over him? And why was he so unable to keep from thinking it?

Once he opened his eyes again to see Phryne's movements soften - turned comfortably onto her back - he picked the newspaper off the side table and opened it to whichever page might give him the quickest distraction. He tried immediately to forget just how irresistible Phryne's personal freedom really was on the average day, never MIND her complete openness with him in her state of inebriation. That black hair, that silky peach outfit of nightwear she had insisted on wearing downstairs in polite company, and those brilliant eyes. Jack started reading an ad of all things when Phryne's voice distracted him again.

"Oh Jack ..."

He was ignoring the way she spoke it - the long, drawn-out notes of her voice would not affect him in the least, of course.

"When will you just HAVE some of this ... fudge feeling ... whatever it is? I'll give you the treats I stole if you'd like, Jack ..."

"I will never partake in such an influence, Miss Fisher. Not willingly at least."

Phryne closed her eyes and stretched out as best she could on the couch with a dangerous grin spreading on her face: "... Is that ... a challenge?"

"Most certainly not."

"Spoilsport," she hummed, rolling and tumbling off the couch in a fit of laughter. And yet she rather liked when Jack was at her side, offering her help up. The clumsiness was a strange sensation, but one she thought she could fathom if it meant what it seemed to mean. Her heart started racing as she wriggled onto her back on the floor, reaching around herself to find she felt quite trapped without any of her usual balance. "Will you give me your hands?"

When he offered a polite palm, she touched his fingertips with hers, but looked up into his eyes with a mischievous glint in hers. "No ... both hands, Jack ..."

"I don't know if that's wise," he chuckled back, relaxed for some strange reason at the sudden obviousness of his admirer. "Just let me help you up. Did you hurt yourself?"

"Oh, I think I did," Phryne giggled, "Something that needs both your hands, Jack."

Something about the way she said his name made him weak. He cleared his throat to stay strong, and stood up to his full height again as if he could as easily gather back his inner strength. "Miss Fisher ... I'm a detective by trade, and that means I can sense you have something up your sleeve."

"But I have no sleeves," Phryne whined with perfect seriousness. "You can't suspect me of something illegal, Jack ...? Little old me."

"You may be little, but I must say you're the youngest person I've ever met," Jack laughed, leaning down and taking her hands in his before she could try anything. Hoisting her up to her feet, he felt a surge of affection for her. It couldn't be helped. Whenever Phryne needed him - for any reason - he felt himself grow taller somehow.

Enjoying her heavy buzz, Phryne collided against him as she stood. It was such a fantastically freeing sensation to lean flush against the stubborn man detective of her strangest fantasies. Landing with her chest to his, she saw to grabbing the lapels of his dark grey suit jacket with both fists. It was so natural to grab onto him, and she wondered in her hazy daze of logic why she hadn't simply done it that way before. It was so easy. It felt so nice to be so close to him, and those eyes ... she wore an excited smile at the very thought of kissing him.

"You ... you need to rest," Jack whispered against her, realizing his hands spanned from her sides to the middle of her back. His stance steadied them both, but his hands were altogether too warm against the thin material of her slippery outfit. He cursed his racing heart and looked seriously into her eyes: "Sleep, perhaps."

"... Mmm but who will bring me up to bed ...?"

Jack could hardly stand the way she was looking at him from under her lashes. It was a feigned helplessness she would only dare show to a man who appreciated the irony. The thudding of Jack's heart wore relentlessly on his nerves as Phryne tucked her head in at his neck, nestling closer to him and giggling again with a pure sense of joy. Jack's breath caught in his throat. Of all the things Phryne Fisher might get up to while under the influence of drugs, nuzzling his neck was not Jack's first guess. But what a pleasant thing it was ...

Wanting to explain it wasn't the time, Jack found himself wordless. Try as he might, he simply couldn't pull himself away from the fists bunching up the lapels of his suit or the nose that tickled under his ear. All he could do was breathe and hold her still.

"Who, Jack? Who would want to take me up to bed?" she teased then, reminding him just how mischievous she could be. She was asking who might want to show her to her room, and he had a few ideas, but those would have to wait. He couldn't be thinking such things when she was out of her mind. But he wondered - was she really so desperate for him?

"We just ... you just need to take a seat."

"Won't you please just enjoy this with me?" Phryne smiled, moaning deeply at the feel of his neck against her cheek. The fabric in her hands was rough, but Jack was rough in another way completely. She melted in against him, suddenly feeling another surge of energy.

"No ... one of us has to be logical."

"Me - let me be logical then," she insisted, taking off in a sprint out toward the kitchen. Jack was just moments behind her, shucking off his jacket with a natural playfulness that came with such ease, he didn't hesitate to enjoy the laugh that came bursting out when Phryne slid into the counter and and screamed like a little girl only to twirl and keep on.

"Get back here!" Jack called to her in the softer, more careful voice of a man in love than that of the officer he played most days. He laughed his way out the side door after Phryne, nearly tripping over a potted plant as he cleared another row of flowers only to wonder how Phryne was so agile in her state of deliriousness. She never ceased to amaze him.

"I'm painting this fence!" Phryne yelled with laughter as she ran all along the fence in bare feet and what looked to be clothes for lounging in her bedroom. "I'm painting it tomorrow!"

Jack stopped and watched her with both hands on his hips, biting his cheek at the sight of it all. Phryne Fisher, stoned. His lips curled up into a smile again until she stopped and looked up to the top of her fence. If Jack knew anything about Miss Fisher, he most certainly knew she could climb a fence.

Mr. Butler caught the sight too, from the upstairs hallway window, smiling at the devoted detective prying Phryne off the fence. Admiring the devotion Phryne also showed by recognizing the man for who he was and simply wriggling in contempt. Mr. Butler rolled his eyes and turned to head downstairs should anyone come by to complain about the noise disturbance.

It was only after a long discussion about picnics that Jack managed to get Miss Fisher inside again.

"On the couch," Mr. Butler suggested as Jack entered the kitchen door with Phryne over his shoulder, as if she were a delivery of some sort. Scanning the older man politely sipping tea and reading, Jack chuckled to himself and caught his breath as he walked through the hallway and put Phryne down on the couch as he was told.

"I didn't go too fast for you, did I, Jack?" Phryne smiled, seemingly un-winded from the strenuous fun they had just endured together. Jack admired her all the more for it.

"No," he answered, taking the time to memorize the vulnerability she was sharing with him. He memorized the exact slope of her shoulders in silk, the angle of her jaw, and the rosiness of her cheeks when she was really enjoying herself - all things previously known. All things he re-memorized whenever he could. What a magnificent creature. What a goofy, fearless, magnificent creature.

After a few short knocks on the door, Dorothy hurried in to get Phryne some water, and Mac sauntered into the parlour with a shake of her head and a wry grin for her old friend. She spoke openly in front of Jack, as if he were only a fly on the wall: "This is what you get. Stealing people's things."

The friend was Mac? Was she admitting to the possession of illegal drugs?

Phryne laughed, attempting to arch tall enough to bridge acrobatically. Nearly flashing Mac and Jack all in one shot instead. Mac stood with a simple blink of her eyes as Phryne squealed and fall against the couch.

"I hope you've learned something from this," Mac suggested, simply sinking her hands into her pockets.

"Well, how was I supposed to know what you put in your sweets?" Phryne pouted, finally sitting upright with the most adorable expression across her face. Jack refused to admit to himself that he would not be able to remain as unaffected in Mac's place. Then again, Jack thought that if Mac were so easily affected by Miss Fisher, he had bigger problems ...

Dorothy broke up the conversation with her frantic offering of water and insistence Phryne be hospitalized. Mac ended up seeing to Dorothy more than Phryne that afternoon.

In the meanwhile, Jack had done what he could to entertain the very alert Miss Fisher in the parlour. It was easy enough at first, but the more time passed between them, the closer the got - and the more intimate the conversation - until she was crawling over to him.

Jack's fingers pressed into the arm rest of his chair as he noticed she was clumsily making her way over, and that he did not have the strength to lift out of his chair. He was frozen, watching her.

"And you could stay for dinner, Jack," she insinuated, her voice growing sultry as her body reacted to the nearness of him. She sat back on her heels as she recognized those shoes - those pants. As if she had done it a hundred times before, she put her hands on his knees and his entire body jolted. He didn't know how much more he could take before his body demanded a rest from her impossible seduction.

"Miss Fisher-"

"Oh, Jack ..." Phryne giggled, pulling herself up to her knees to hold onto the collar of his buttoned shirt instead. She pulled close enough to look intimately into his eyes but not close enough to kiss him.

"Miss Fisher."

"You won't even let me sit next to you," she pouted, happily surprised when he helped her lift herself onto his knee. Purring when his hands accidentally steadied her there. Moaning when she slid herself so nicely against him. "Jack ... I want you to stay tonight ..." And with that, she squirmed against him. "I need a big, strong, handsome man, Jack ... and I know just what the doctor ordered ..."

"Phryne!" he gasped, feeling her thigh brushing a little too close for comfort. It was too comfortable - too possible. Too erotic. And not at all how he wanted to succumb to her - when her mind was elsewhere. Not when she couldn't fully enjoy it.

Her fingers were toying with the buttons of his shirt when he felt himself flush completely at all of her intimate attention. He caught her wrist in his hand, and breathed deeply with her leaning in against his chest.

"I ... I hardly think any of this is what the doctor ordered."

Interrupting the increasingly intimate moment, Mac spoke from the parlour doorway: "I should say it's not the inspector's place to declare a doctor's order, though ... in this case I'm afraid he's right, Phryne."

"You two are no fun," Phryne whined, doing nothing to remove herself from her spot perched on Jack's knee - hands pressed against his chest. Jack prayed she could not feel the rhythm of his heart with those troublesome hands. It beat harder at the thought of her realizing the effect she had on him.

Mac wanted to laugh at the blanched look on Jack's face, but instead managed to simply cross her arms and stare at Phryne with a stern look: "To bed with you. No big, strong, handsome man to accompany you, either. You're SLEEPING - those are the doctor's orders."

Although her head was spinning, Phryne sat up and placed Mac with a stare of her own: "Can I get a second opinion?"

"No," Mac chuckled, watching Jack push Phryne carefully off him but not following along with her. Mac thought she knew very well why that was, and saw to it not to embarrass him about it. Instead, Mac offered Phryne her arm, and helped her into the hall.

"If you won't let me take that man to bed, at the very least, you can carry me over YOUR shoulder."

Jack could hear Phryne's voice carry into the parlour, smirking at the audacity of the woman detective to tease.

"Don't tempt me - you're impossible as it is," Mac answered with sass, starting Phryne up the stairs.

"You're no fun," Phryne moaned and then giggled as Mac shooed her the rest of the way up the stairs.

"Well maybe next time you won't steal from me."

The days' events stayed with Jack even days later as he sat at his office desk, remembering the exact way Phryne had climbed onto him. Everything from the mess of her hair to the bareness of her feet were on his mind in dull moments, reminding him of his feelings for the incorrigible Miss Fisher.

When he heard her grand entrance into South Station, he sat with a grinning plan. It took her all of one full minute to gain access to his office with Collins hurrying in after her - apologizing she had breached the office yet again.

"It's alright, Collins," Jack insisted, rising from his chair just as Phryne walked around the desk and sat atop it, as she usually did. Jack walked around as well to close the office door as subtly as possible as she spoke.

"I suppose an apology is in order," Phryne smiled, already leafing through a report on his desk when she felt his hand gently close over her left wrist. She turned to him in question, surprised with an unmistakable smile in his eyes.

"I'm afraid you're under arrest, Miss Fisher," he simmered with every effort to speak as a figure of great authority. "No time for apologies."

Phryne feared for a single moment that he might very well arrest her to show her that she couldn't get away with anything, but realized he wouldn't have arrested her for MISTAKENLY ingesting a substance. However lesson-oriented he was. So she thought back to what on earth might have him declaring the intent to do so. She blushed when she realized she must have shared the fantasy with him while her inhibitions had been free. Had she confessed it to him after he had chased her outdoors? Had it been while she was curled up in his lap, even? Poor man. She thought she might indeed deserve to be arrested after all.

"Jack-"

Promptly, he pulled her off his desk with all the strength of an officer but none of the force. He was standing her on her feet, looking into her eyes.

Phryne swallowed hard, wondering just what on earth she said to him. How much of her fantasy had she shared?

"Turn around, Phryne."

Intensely curious as to what he might do, she did as he asked. Trying desperately to breathe evenly. She chanted to herself to keep her wits about her. He could very well be arresting her in earnest. He might not really know-

His hands started at her ankles, drifting up the backs of her legs, and she had to lean on the desk for support. He was touching her. Jack's warm hands were actually touching her over her stockings. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out just as hastily.

"If you have any illegal substances on you at the moment, we're going to have some trouble," he said once his hands were under her dress at the backs of her thighs. Breathing into her hair from behind - doing his best to re-create what she had indeed confessed to him days before. Doing his best to remain as unaffected as possible with bare flesh under his hands. It took all his strength to continue with his plan.

Bringing his hands out from under her dress, he put them on her waist, sliding them around to her stomach, and up, just narrowly avoiding her sensitive chest.

Phryne's body was on fire. She thought she might plead him to take her to bed if he kept at it much longer. And then, all of the sudden, he stopped. His hands were off, gripping the ledge of his desk on either side of her hips. Talking over her shoulder with a confident grin apparent in his tone: "I think this makes us even."

Oh, that evil man.

And with that, Jack excused himself from his own office, having re-created only the very start of her fantasy. It was a reminder that Phryne had teased him days past, too, and that she too deserved its frustrating effect. But Jack hadn't been unaffected completely, had he? She moaned to herself at the warmth of his voice. The warmth of his hands - he had certainly been willing to abide her fantasy. And then an idea struck, and she was flinging herself out into the hall, insisting that she would be back later that day.

Jack nervously watched her go, doing what he could not to notice the overall flush in her cheeks. There would be trouble.


	2. Jack Robinson on Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Jack expect, really?

Jack was busy at his desk when he heard Collins hollering from the front desk: "Sir - her car. She's here!"

So it would begin. Jack's revenge.

Jack knew exactly what Phryne was planning after their encounter only hours before, and he had every intention of squandering her mischief. Just as Jack had asked of Hugh, Phryne's arrival was announced so he could properly ready himself. The steady inspector made his way down the small corridor, and leaned comfortably against the wall just as the station door swung open and a vibrant, simmering woman came sashaying inside.

Phryne stopped short, however, when she noticed Jack leaning. He was expecting her entrance. This was not good - Jack carrying that smirk with such pride. Something was amiss. He was up to something, and she hadn't been expecting that. Could he have known what she'd been thinking? Was he expecting her to do what she did? That couldn't mean ... oh no.

"You're a helpful woman in our investigations, Miss Fisher," he said without the teasing sense she saw sparkling at her through his eyes. "Wouldn't you say you've ... helped the station a time or two."

Suddenly Phryne's sass came through the room as if it were some sort of delayed shadow. Her eyebrow snuck under her fringe, and she hoisted her hands to her hips. "More like solved the cases FOR you."

"Mmm," Jack simply smiled, acknowledging but not admitting to her comment.

Phryne stared at him expectantly, and then he stood to his full height and put his hands on his hips, too. They were on equal footing.

"Well ... Collins over here is quite unawares as to proper search technique, and since you're usually so helpful, I thought naturally ..."

The flush that came over Phryne enticed Jack unexpectedly. He hadn't meant to be so aroused by his ability to surprise - for once - the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher, but he was overcome with it. He was glowing.

Phryne acted as if she had no concerns - as if she hadn't hid an illegal nude picture in a particularly secretive place. Jack was surprising her - he had predicted her and was using that against her. The realization had her fighting a smirk.

"Well, I don't know if-"

"Nonsense," Jack smiled, striking her argument mute with an obvious competitive streak Phryne had never seen quite as boldly before.

Oh, so that was how he was going to play it? Was there really no other police work to see to that Jack had the time for mischief? Phryne did her best pout in response, but Jack glanced over to his constable instead. Curious ... he never seemed to dwell on her long if she blinked at him that way. Could it be that Jack Robinson were as weak in some respects as other men? The almighty, all-controlled Jack Robinson?

"Collins. This is something I told you we'd need to improve, and here is this willing aid." Jack gestured over to the quaint and beautifully-restrained Miss Fisher, and beamed: "Unless you're too shy, of course."

"Never," Phryne scoffed, helping herself into the corridor - passing Jack with a competitive smile of her own. 

My, she had taken the bait awfully quickly ...

Jack hardly had the time to question the situation before Collins followed behind Miss Fisher with a fearful look of worry. It was the same look Hugh had on his face any time there was a woman to arrest or search. Touching young women was not his strongest point, and Jack had to roll his eyes to think that Hugh needed the exercise in a very real sense. He needed to rid himself of the fear of women he seemed to have.

Down the hall to the interview room came Miss Fisher in a flurry of silk, followed by Hugh Collins with wide, terrified eyes, and after him the slightly perturbed Inspector.

Hugh's mind leapt to the worst case scenarios, heart racing at the very thought of actually touching Miss Fisher or her elaborate clothing. Having only kissed Dottie before, Hugh became very anxious at the thought of touching women's arms or shoulders or ... God forbid ... their legs. He didn't know how they would respond or if they might slap him in the face. He wouldn't blame them.

Hugh found himself standing nervously in the doorway to the interview room when Jack announced himself with a gruff clearing of his throat. When Hugh allowed him to walk past, Jack clasped his hands behind his back, and addressed Hugh.

"If you're to be a constable, Collins ... you can't be afraid of asking a young woman to see what's in her purse ... or, if need be, tucked into her garter."

Hugh blanched - his eyes growing impossibly wide.

Phryne had to laugh, shaking her head at the unusually cruel Inspector: "Jack! ... You can't be serious. Look at him. You're scaring the life out of the poor boy."

"No," Hugh answered, swallowing hard and turning back to Miss Fisher. "No ... it's quite alright. I can handle any task. Any assignment. No need to worry, Miss."

"And why are you making Hugh search all these women?" Phryne half-laughed, ignoring Hugh's insistences to stare directly at the mischievous man who had always caught her eye. "Hmm, Jack? ... Why not search them yourself if it's such an important task? And where are all these smuggling women coming from, Jack? Seems a tad precarious, if you ask me ..."

"Nonsense," Jack declared once again, smouldering at her when Hugh cautiously approached their supposed suspect.

"Do you ... mind ... playing the part, Miss?" Hugh asked with a stutter so adorable, Phryne took pity on him with a smile devoid of challenge.

"For you? Of course not, Hugh." Then she narrowed her eyes to glance across the room at Jack: "But as I understand the experience of training ... you're to show him how it's done, Inspector."

Jack felt excitement rise in his chest, but pushed it back. It wasn't an excitement he wanted to allow in the presence of his inexperienced Constable. In front of anyone, in fact. No exceptions, he reminded himself - stalking toward the troublesome woman who shook his waking dreams.

"Am I going to have to subdue you, Miss Fisher?" Jack asked, standing in the same small square of space as the other two persons - all within arms' reach of each other. He stopped short and put his hands on his hips, waiting for her answer.

Phryne warmed to the caramel tones of his voice, grinning suddenly without restraint. "Have I done anything ... illegal, Jack?"

He warned her not to use such familiar references with a cutting stare. In response, Phryne stepped into Jack's personal space - daring him to retreat.

"Well ...? Since you're such an expert on ... searching women, Inspector ... perhaps you'd care to get on with it ...?"

She was so close. All Jack desired to do was catch her in his arms and kiss that grin off her face, but he had resigned to endure all of her delicious torments long ago. Instead, he pushed his shoulders back and took on the authoritative persona he carried when necessary during his duty as Police Inspector.

"I'm afraid - given your connection to the crime, Miss ... Fraud ..."

Phryne smirked at his playful pretending. And she grinned wider when he refused to give in to the humor of the situation.

"... I'm afraid I have to be certain you don't have ... illegal items on your person."

"Is there no woman officer who can assist?" Phryne asked, going along with the ruse. Petulant even in character.

Of course, Jack sighed. "No. There's no one but me."

"Shame ... I did see a red-headed woman on the scene just minutes before ..."

"Mac?" Jack asked with a sudden, lifted brow. Shaking the thought from his mind immediately for his constable's sake. He cleared his throat just for good measure. "No. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"Well, so be it," Phryne smiled, "What is it you're looking for?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that. Please kindly open your purse and I'll let you know if I see it."

Phryne did as she was told only for the sake of poor Hugh who was sweating behind Jack - notepad and pen jotting notes. She handed her open purse to Jack who didn't actually see to it to venture inside, but handed her belongings back immediately instead.

"It's not in there."

Though Phryne knew he wasn't looking to protect her privacy, she thought she might make things difficult for Jack after all. She could hardly resist!

"Mr. Robsinson ... I must say it seems you have no interest in finding the item you speak of ... Should I be worried?"

Jack turned back to Hugh in all seriousness, warning him that often times if someone had something to hide, they would try to insinuate something lewd. But he assured Hugh that if he simply did his job, it would all be over with and done.

When Jack turned back to face Phryne, his face was all business, as if to say 'not now' and she softened her stance.

"Should I ask for a witness to appeal to your safety, Miss?"

"How about him?" Phryne asked, gesturing over Jack's shoulder to Hugh, who was at that point an invisible fixture in their imaginary scenario. "He looks like the trustworthy sort."

Jack rolled his eyes, smiling at last. "Sure, alright. Constable ... will you please watch over the process?"

"Yes, Sir," he said shakily, jotting more notes when Jack set aside Phryne's purse and motioned to her dress.

"If you would ... remove your garter."

"Remove it yourself," Phryne smirked, beginning to enjoy the thought of Jack undressing her with an audience. Something told her Jack would not be operating with a clear mind if his fingers were touching her inner thigh. Then again, neither would she ...

Not that she minded.

What she didn't expect, however, was the way Jack stepped over to her - all business. Authoritative in his stride. He carefully lifted her dress without taking his eyes from hers, and traced one finger up from her knee until it caught hold of her garter. With precision, and still with his eyes fastened on the shock in hers, he slid it down until it fell to the ground.

Then he took a small step back, as if unaffected.

Phryne's heart raced. Had Jack just done that without batting an eye? Had he reached to her thigh and removed her garter without a single glance down? She could feel her heart thumping - she could hear the pounding rhythm in her ears with the way he was staring at her. He was in control. Jack was in control of her every reaction, and she was - for once - utterly powerless. She had never felt anything quite like it. Jack's ability to lust obviously after her one moment, and feign indifference the next had her completely distracted.

"Nothing there either," Jack said, his voice devoid of any real sultry quality, and yet it was there between them.

"No ... it's just a garter."

"If it were something incredibly small we were searching for, Hugh," Jack spoke with his head turned to his trainee. "I might need to frisk her." His eyes then naturally connected with Phryne's again as he continued, enjoying her reaction. "But seeing as Miss Fisher has so graciously offered to help, I think we might forgo that just this once."

Hugh nodded: "Yes, Sir."

"And now ...?" Phryne asked, doing her best to remain as professional as the patient, experienced inspector staring her down.

"Now ... it's been quite enough I think."

Hugh was madly scribbling on his notepad when Jack turned his head and insisted Phryne had volunteered enough for one day - could Hugh please get her a tea for her troubles?

Once Hugh had nodded and hurried out of the room, Jack turned back to Phryne, and showed the feeling in his eyes with honesty. He wanted to touch her.

"What did you hide? ... Where is it?" he whispered, allowing his eyes to drop from her chest to her hips in that purple silk dress. Only then did she notice how his pulse raced, too. It was in the way he breathed - the way he wouldn't allow himself to touch her again. The controlled way he spoke: "Tell me."

Knowing Hugh would be joining them again shortly, Phryne decided against the demand for a full-body search. Instead, she smirked, dipped her own hand into the top of her dress, and pulled out a folded card.

When Jack naturally unfolded it, he saw it wasn't a card at all. It was a photo. His eyes went as wide as Hugh's, correcting his response with a small cough as if it could conceal his surprise.

In that photo stood Phryne - naked with her back turned at a three-quarter profile so that the dimples at the base of her spine and side of her left breast were visible - her arms hugged across her own chest as a sort of tease to the shapeliness of her backside.

She must have stood in her own bedroom, Jack quickly deciphered, eyes racing over the legs bare except for her stockings and matching garter belt. She was nude for the photo - nude. It was all Jack could think about, his fingers pinching the edges of the image with a growing intensity - memorizing every inch of her.

Phryne watched his reaction with hunger, doing her best to keep from grinning when Hugh returned in the doorway with her tea.

"Miss?"

Jack startled with the sound, tucking the photo in his coat pocket before dropping into the first available seat.

"Thank you, Constable. That will be all."

"Nonsense," Phryne teased, just as she took the tea from Hugh - winking at the world's shiest constable. "Why don't we practice searching the inspector?" Phryne turned saucily toward Jack, and blew a little longer on her steaming tea "... See if there are any illegal items on you, hmm, Jack?"

For a moment, Jack's mouth went completely dry at the thought of the picture being found on HIS person. But he dismissed it just as easily, asking Hugh to please man the front desk because they were expecting a witness.

Once Hugh was gone again, Phryne couldn't help but laugh quietly, into her tea.

"That was ..." Jack cleared his throat: "Rather cruel, Miss Fisher."

"I'll say," she smiled, sipping her tea. "But you started it, Inspector."

"Remind me to never take revenge on a woman so inventive as yourself, Miss Fisher."

"Every chance I get," she said gently, trying not to imagine exactly what reaction he had to that photograph. Instead, she simply sat up on the desk at his side, sipping her tea.

Jack made an attempt to lift from the seat when she had finished, but the moment he did, he dropped down again and sighed.

"Trouble, Inspector?"

"Yes, you," he grumbled with an accidental grin on his lips.

When he pulled the folded picture out from his coat pocket - offering it back to her - Phryne motioned that it was no longer hers.

"After this little demonstration ... something tells me it isn't quite as safe as I thought to go around carrying such things on my person." When he met her eyes with his, she continued: "When there's a talented Inspector around town, doing an awfully adventurous lot of inspecting ..."

"Phryne, if I ..."

"Nonsense," she said again, mimicking his tease and slipping off the desk. "And you should keep it, Jack. That redhead officer and I took it for you, after all ..."

Mac. Jack should have known. Who else would have gone along with such a ridiculous and devilish plan?

"Keep the garter, too," she whispered, passing him to head over to the door. "Just another excuse to sleuth around your living quarters one of these days ..."

Before he could say another word, Phryne was already heading down the station corridor. Jack took a deep breath in, willed himself to stand, and pocketed the garter, too. He didn't dare take out either confiscated item all day, until he arrived in the safety of his house later that night.

Miss Fisher really was a stunning vision in lace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the story:  
> Never fuck with Miss Fisher.
> 
> Or ... maybe do. It might earn you a fun little trinket for safekeeping ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Revenge can be sweet. Even when it's not deserved ...


End file.
